


hearts and souls

by venndaai



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Gen, Illustrated, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-15 02:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8037925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venndaai/pseuds/venndaai
Summary: stories of the daemons of Dunwall.





	1. vermin

 

 

 

Regulus settles the day they take back Dunwall. The High Overseer places the heavy coronet on her too-small head and Regulus shrinks in a rush of wind and feathers, transforming from graceful swan into something small and dark that leaps into her lap and sits there, quivering. There's a collective gasp from the crowd of unfamiliar faces, and Emily shrinks back in the throne, silently begging him to change back, but she already knows he can't, that this is it.

Corvo lets her run off, after the ceremony and the endless congratulations, the forced smiles, the eyes avoiding looking down at Regulus where he sits in her cupped hands. Corvo catches up to her in front of the painting of the late Empress. She's staring at Jessamine's perfect face, and at the snow-white ermine nestled sinuously in her arms.

“No one wants an Empress with a rat daemon,” she says, flat and harsh.

Corvo's large hand rests on her shoulder. “They'll get used to him,” Shura says, dark wings twitching.

Emily turns to face them, tears in her eyes. “Do _you_ think he's ugly?”

“He's fine,” Shura assures them, but she's still twitchy and nervous. Corvo's scarred face is sad and silent as always. Regulus snorts, and crawls up Emily's sleeve, claws scratching her skin. She winces, and bites her lip to keep from crying out.

Later, at night, they creep over to the box that holds her mother's heart, and lift it out, and point it at Corvo. The whisper in their heads says, _He thinks it's his fault. That his darkness and commonness have infected her. He's sorry. He apologizes to me, and hopes I can hear him._

Emily puts the heart back, tiptoes back to bed, climbs in, pulls the heavy brocade blankets over her head, and stuffs her fist in her mouth to muffle her sobs. “I'm sorry,” Regulus whispers, but she can tell he's not really. He's angry. He wants to bite.

She strokes his soft hair. It might not be so bad if he were a pretty rat, small and long-haired and pale-colored, like the ones people bred as pets. But he's huge and hulking and pitch-black, and his eyes were red and reflected like mirrors in the dark.

“I think you're beautiful,” Emily whispers fiercely. He pushes his cold nose against her cheek.

 

Thirteen years later, she runs through the alleys of Karnaca, chased by enemies who fall under enraged swarms of small furry bodies, teeth that tear out throats and claws that gouge out eyes. She clenches her fist, hand burning, and feels herself shift, go liquid and pour herself down into a smaller, more agile shape, her and her spirit together in a single body, slipping through a grill, scrambling up a drainage pipe and emerging on a rooftop, separating in a cloud of black smoke. Regulus leaps onto her shoulder, heavier now, almost cat-sized, the scarred and matted and triumphant king of Karnaca's million-strong army of vermin. His teeth are stained with human blood. So are hers. It's hot and coppery on her tongue and gums. Her metabolism burns from her transformations, and she searches, blinks down through a window and grabs a worm-ridden loaf of bread. She splits it into two to share with her daemon. They chew and swallow the whole thing in under a minute.

She sees a flutter of black on the edge of her vision, and spins, but there's nothing there. No night-black crow. Just her mind playing tricks on her heart, like the last five times. She crouches in the corner of the garbage-filled room, Regulus sitting on her legs, waiting, listening for the sounds of pursuers over the echo of her pulse in her ears. Adrenaline is still rushing through her system, along with a fierce elation. They'd thought she would give up. They thought her easy prey. But she is a rat, and she will survive, and she will win. Delilah called them vermin, so vermin they will be, and they will show her the danger in underestimating the power of teeth and claws and filth.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me if the pictures are too big and i'll resize them!


	2. sea longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> samuel goes to sea again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> harvey smith... why'd u have to break my heart like this...

 

“I need to go out to sea,” Samuel says. “I need to be with her when I die.”

“You're not going to die,” Emily says, frowning at him from her perch on the edge of the bedframe. “I forbid it.” She's fourteen, and not sure whether to be angry or thrilled by life. Her polished black shoes bang against the metal bars of the bed. Regulus is on top of the nearby cabinet, scratching pale lines through the laquered wood.

Corvo doesn't say anything. He puts his hand on Samuel's shoulder. Samuel bends his arm and brings his hand up so their fingers touch. “I've got a bit set by,” he says. “Maybe enough to pay someone to take me out deep enough for her to meet me.” He coughs, and struggles to catch his breath. Corvo brings him water. He drinks it, and eventually stops coughing. “I've got to go now,” he says. “While I'm still strong enough to walk onto a boat.”

 “You'd just go by yourself?” Emily asks, her voice much smaller than before. “Just leave?”

Corvo looks away. Shura hops onto his arm, and he strokes her feathers urgently. He stops when he feels Samuel's hand on his arm. He turns and looks into knowing eyes. Samuel knows how much Corvo wants to go with him, and he knows that Corvo can't. Corvo turns his head a little to look at Emily. Her legs have stopped swinging. She knows, too.

“Fine,” she says. “We'll all go.”

Samuel coughs again, and sputters, “What? Your majesty-”

“Don't argue,” the Empress of the Isles orders. “Either of you. Corvo wants to go with you, but he can't leave me, so I'll go too. I need a break anyway.”

“Your Council will have a fit,” Corvo murmurs, and adds in sign, _Are you just trying to get out of schoolwork?_

“No!” Emily cries, offended. She hops down from the bedframe, kneels by the bed. Takes Samuel's other hand in hers. “Samuel is family.”

There are tears in Samuel's eyes. Corvo turns away to control his own emotions. Emily always surprises him. He remembers, with intense clarity, the day she'd told him, very seriously, “I'm happy for you and Samuel.” He'd never spoken with her about- love, and who it could manifest between- he ought to have, as a father, but it had always been too personal, and too frightening. But she'd seen it on her own, and he was glad she had. She'd been twelve, and he suspected that was the year she'd begun to feel a certain way about her friend Wyman.

“Your majesty,” Samuel says, sounding choked. “I don't deserve the kindness you've shown me.”

“Nonsense,” she replies. “We'll leave in a few days. Corvo will arrange it.” Imperious, assuming. Corvo doesn't mind.

 

 

 

The boat is just large enough to protect its passengers from the rough waters beyond Gristol's shores. Corvo feels himself relax a little as Dunwall disappears over the horizon. It's just the three of them on this boat, Samuel resting in the small cabin, Emily leaning over the side with Regulus in the hood of her coat, getting her face wet with spray from the boat's wake. Nothing but wide water around them and gray sky above. No possible threats to the Empress, nothing to protect her from, not out here. Corvo stays by the wheel, Shura a few feet away, claws wrapped around the edge of the boat, the stiff breeze ruffling her feathers. Corvo listens to the hum of the engine. He's reminded of his first trip over water, from Serkonos to Dunwall. How uncertain he'd been of his future, of his place in the world. He has a rock steady world now, has for years. But he's going to lose an important part of it, soon. He can't quite come to terms with that. It's been four years since he lost Jessamine, and he still carries that hole in his heart. He's not ready to carry Samuel, too.

“There's nothing more to be done,” Piero had said, nervous at giving the Lord Protector bad news. “Either he'll recover or he won't. Pneumonia is serious at his age, and with his weak lungs...”

Samuel might recover, though. He'd still be weak, susceptible to a relapse, but there would be more time.

Corvo is glad they're away from Dunwall, its fogs and chemicals. The city kills all its citizens eventually.

The mark on his hand itches, but it's been years since he could reach out and slow down time.

He hears quiet coughing behind him, and turns and goes to Samuel, where he clings to the cabin doorframe. Corvo goes to him and holds him up. They walk together to the stern. “She's nearby,” Samuel says.

“Good,” Corvo says. He turns off the engine, and puts his arm around Samuel's shoulders.

Emily shouts, "Look." Corvo's eyes follow her excitedly pointing arm, and he sees an enormous gray shape cresting out of the waves. Samuel breathes in sharply. He slips under Corvo's arm and leans over the side of the boat, almost precariously far. Corvo grabs onto his coat.

When the whale comes closer, Corvo sees just how huge she is. Easily twice as long as their boat, and massively broad. She rises out of the water, blowing mist from the hole in her head, huge kind eye taking them in. “Hello, my darling,” Samuel croaks. “My dearest, it's been so long, too long, I'm so sorry I left you.” He reaches out, puts his hands against the barnacle-encrusted flank.

Emily is crying. Corvo doesn't think she realizes it. He pulls her into a half-embrace, and she clings to him. “She's beautiful,” she says.

Shura hops over to the edge of the ship next to Samuel. “May I?” she asks, and Samuel says, “Please.”

Shura jumps, and beats her wings against the wind, and drops very carefully down to the huge back, mindful of claws against the thick hide with its criss-cross of stretch marks. She bends her head down to rub against the gray skin. Samuel sighs, and closes his eyes, palms still flat against his daemon's side.

Emily had asked Samuel once how he could bear to be so far from his daemon. He'd told her it wasn't all bad, that he felt her joy at the freedom of the open ocean, that he heard her songs sometimes in the back of his head and dreamed of her voyages around the world. As their daemons touch, Corvo feels Samuel's fierce bittersweet longing, and wishes for a world where no one is ever parted by space or time or death.

 

 

 

  
Later, he and Emily return to the capitol alone. Or not quite; Regulus and Shura are with them. Always with them.

 

 


End file.
